


Does it Hurt?

by raynalatrev



Category: Dragon Age: Inquisition
Genre: Fluff, Memories, Other, Spoliers
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-09-15
Updated: 2015-09-15
Packaged: 2018-04-20 23:23:45
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4806122
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/raynalatrev/pseuds/raynalatrev
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>After the events in Trespasser, tagging along on the Epilogue scene. The Inquisitor and the Commander have moved on, but their work isn't done.</p>
            </blockquote>





	1. Remembering

Does It hurt?

Cassandra has asked her that in the Haven Chantry, four years earlier. The answer then was, I’m fine, I just want to know what it is. A product of being in the wrong place at the wrong time, or a sign the Maker had other plans for her. Either way, it saved Thedas from the green cloud in the sky that was the breach, and the wrath of a would-be god, Corypheus. Two years later, it helped stop a Qunari Heretic invasion at Halamshiral. And a dragon so poisonous, it planned to take over what was left of Thedas.   
Until it betrayed her. The unstable anchor began to take over, started to have a mind of its own. In an instant, magic would explode from her hand, hitting everyone in the way. The longer she was in the Crossroads, the more explosive it became. Standing before the last Eluvian, ending the chase for someone who once was, she could feel the anchor crawling up her arm, reaching for more. On her knees, she winced through the pain, to get him to stay, to help. Instead, he left her there to find a solution.   
We amputate, or she dies.  
Gliding in and out of consciousness, the voices were loud, concerned, and short on time. She saw the green getting brighter, sparking. Do we just let her die? Came from one side of her head. We can’t. Then from the other. When she woke up, she was left with half an arm. A sleeve rolled up and pinned, to keep it from showing. As the Inquisitor, she still had one last duty. No time to vent. Or grieve. Whichever she was feeling.   
She stomped into the court at Halamshiral with the book that started it all in her hand. The symbol on the front all too familiar, now. You all know what this is, yes? They were a force to be reckoned with. One that came at a time when nothing else could be done. She and Cassandra had been disputed by the Chantry all those years ago, labeled as rebels. Risking her life for the little people, who cared. She dropped the Inquisition on the table in front of her, in front of the people of Orlais, in front of the people of Ferelden, in front of Divine Victoria, her old friend.  
The Inquisition will be disbanded.   
Was she doing the right thing? Would she ever? She didn’t know. She never knew. This was her duty and her decision. The Inquisition was not going to be treated like a leashed Mabari or a threat to the land she saved. The forces in Caer Bronach and the other forts would pack up and go home. Her agents, would go back to being in the shadows. All the Inquisition was to the Thedosians was a memory of one more what if?

 

Does it hurt?  
Cullen was gathering the rest of their belongings in their quarters at Skyhold. Standing on the balcony, soaking in the sun of the Frostbacks, she was thinking of her goodbyes. There were so many, and she wasn’t prepared for what she felt.   
Skyhold was home. The War Room was her office and the Forge and the Gardens. She thought of Josephine’s desk with all the candles on it, of the upstairs library where she would find Dorian wrapped in a book. The whisper of Leliana’s prayers to the Maker, the late night drink fests in the tavern with Bull and Sera. Sneaking over to Cullen’s office afterwards to watch him blush. The paintings Solas left behind.   
She remembered the doors to the great hall opening for the first time, and the ruble that was Skyhold. She picked every window, every banner, every chair. Wondering what would become of her throne.   
“Can’t feel what isn’t there.” She gave Cullen a small smile. Rubbing the only part of her arm that was left, she could still feel the tingle of the anchor.  
“That’s not what I meant.” He placed his hand, warm and comforting, on her shoulder and squeezed. She set her hand atop it. “I know. Of course it hurts, but we all made sacrifices,” the rolled sleeve came undone as she held out her arm, “I’m just wondering what kind of duelist I am with only one hand.”  
“A special one.” Cullen laughed and embraced her from behind. This would be their last time sharing the view together.   
“Where will we go?”  
“Well, for starters, we have to visit Mia, before she enlists Leliana for help.”  
“And then?”  
“I hadn’t thought about it,” Cullen scratched the back of his neck, “We could stay in South Reach, near my family, or near Redcliffe Village.”  
“Okay.” She smiled at him, the widest smile she had in a long while.


	2. Deciding

In the basement of her home, Trevelyan set up a table with a map and markers. In one corner of the room, was her armor and daggers, along with Cullen’s. In another, were notes tacked to the wall on leads they had received on suspicious activities in Thedas. She marked everything on the map, tracking what seemed to be a trail north, working its way into Tevinter from Orlais.   
Cullen walked into the room, letter in hand.   
“What does it say?” She asked him.  
“It reports that Weisshaupt is silent. There is no one at the gates of the fortress, and no sign of anyone inside. Warden Alistair is trying to investigate without going in, but I fear he may have to.” Cullen read to her, eyes sullen. Something happened to the Wardens, in the midst of stopping the Breach, and they had no idea. She knew the false calling would cause them to act desperately, but for the whole fortress to be silent, after she sent the Orlesian Wardens to rebuild, was unbelievable.   
Cullen put the letter on the board, on top of everything else. “Any news from Dorian?”   
Through the talking Crystal, she heard stories of the Qunari invasions in Tevinter, and how Magister Pavus had progressed with his social reforms. He formed a group of Mages who shared his views, in order to show Tevinter’s people they are not the tales the children of Ferelden have spun.  
“Some. While he still has oppressors, he says the majority are beginning to accept what he shows them. Even the elves. Though, the Qunari are relentless. He seems to think it is just to keep up their reputation after what the Valladasin did. And even the Arishok.”  
“What a fickle man he was.”  
“So I heard. Ostwick got to relish in all of Kirkwall’s dealings. Amazing how we weren’t that far from each other in those years.”  
The two shared a smile before a raven appeared on the table, letter attached to its foot. She unrolled the parchment and read it.  
“It seems Leliana has a new lead on Solas. Information from the Magisterium and the Spire.” She held the letter out to Cullen.  
“The Spire?”, he read further, “They’re Templars don’t control the mages like in Ferelden.”  
“So what would the Chantry want with him?”  
“Maybe they know something we don’t.”  
She looked over to their armor and thought about the last time they had them on. Then proceeded to head upstairs.  
She could hear Cullen calling after her. Outside, was the horse she loved to ride. One arm or not, she still rode whenever she needed to think. She mounted the horse, and galloped her way the hills. Behind her whipping hair, she could see Cullen on his sturdy “Ferelden” horse, trying to catch up. Bringing her paint to a walk, he rode up beside her.  
“What are you doing?” He said, breathless.  
“Having a crazy idea. The Commander of the Inquisition wouldn’t approve.”  
“I’m not Comm-“  
“I know, but hear me out. We need to get to Tevinter. I can’t do that with one arm, or even by myself. Varric has Vicount duies, Vivienne is busy, Thom is with the Wardens, who knows where Cole and Maryden are, and that pretty much leaves me Sera.”  
“Uh huh.”  
“We need to get to Dagna. I need an arm. Or something more useful than this nub. And a helper. A nobody. Like I was.”  
“The Commander of the Inquisition probably wouldn’t agree to this, you’re right about that. However, I am no longer Commander and we need to save the world, yet again,” He smiled at her, “I will have Leliana find Dagna. In the meantime, let’s not worry about another person. The Maker has a way of putting people where he wants them.”  
“Mhm, and you got stuck with this one,” She pointed at herself, laughing, “Race you!” And took off, back towards their horse, hair and skirt flowing behind her


End file.
